Not with a Bang
by ultraguy7x
Summary: You ever wonder what happened to the Joker between the Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises? Sure, everyone has. We don't know, but the people of Gotham know. And even they don't know the whole truth.


**Joker, Jim Gordon, and all characters within this story are owned by Warner Brothers and DC comics.**

**Not with a Bang...**

James Gordon entered the small, sterile room in the heart of Arkham Asylum. In this room there was only one other man. The Joker.

He sat down, leaning against the wall, he looked uglier with out the makeup on; at least the lipstick somewhat concealed the hideous scars on his face. He looked at Gordon groggily and made an odd sound that Gordon couldn't determine was a sigh or a groan or a sequel or anything really.

"Hi there Jimbo, how's life been treating ya lately?" he asked as if they were old friends, and in the Joker's demented mind they probably were.

"No good. This discussion is not being observed or recorded. The two of us are the only ones who will ever know what is said in this room." Gordon said as he glared at the bounded maniac before him.

The joker sat in a straight jacket and giggled that annoying giggle of his. "Why? Something you don't want your wife to find out? Why Jim I'm flattered." The clown said.

"Shut up." Gordon scolded as he stood in front of the clown themed terrorist who had terrorized Gotham for nine months and over a year ago drove the city to the brink of destruction. He drove District Attorney Harvey Dent to madness, Dent had become blind with rage over the death of his beloved Rachel Dawes and had killed five people, Among them Mob Boss Sal Maroni, Detective Michael Wuertz, two of Maroni's people, and a young cop named Wilkes who was guarding Gordon's family, who Dent then abducted for some poorly conceived attempt of revenge on Gordon.

The vigilante known as the Batman saved his family, but accidentally killed Two-Face by shoving him off a building. The Batman decided that he would take the fall for Dent's rampage and went into hiding, not being seen for a year. This put an end to the batman copycats, but did little to discourage crime.

With Batman gone the criminals of Gotham went nuts, since there was no more bat, no more Dent, and the feared Joker was behind bars they could go nuts and seemingly have no one to answer to. It was this that helped push the Dent Act ahead and got Garcia to sign off on it.

The bill was pretty damn inhumane and Gordon wasn't proud of it, as it pretty much violated a lot of human and civil rights, but he knew it wouldn't last long, a decade at the most before he finally decided to reveal the truth, by then there would be some law that would prevent the scum from getting out.

"So what's the occasion? It's not the anniversary and you don't know my birthday, so what gives Commish?" Joker asked.

"I need someone to talk to." Gordon admitted as he sat down in a chair an orderly had provided before he entered the room.

"Me? Why not your wife? Oh that's right; she left you when you let the guy who saved her and your children take the rap for Dent. Even for a guy like me that's cold." Joker mocked. "You said the same thing to Batman once." Gordon pointed out.

"Yeah I repeat myself a lot don't I? Speaking of which you want to know how I got these scars?" Joker said humorously. "Who gives a damn? I think you did it yourself because you're an insane freak." Gordon said.

"Ouch." Joker muttered. "Anyway, I wanted to say something to you. I understand now, you were right. You were right all along." Gordon said.

"Right about what?" Joker asked, innocently. "That deep down, this city is as ugly and scarred as you." Gordon said.

"And when did you realize that little factoid?" Joker asked. "When I saw bat symbols being burned on the anniversary of that night." Gordon said.

The Joker cackled, "You see Gordon? This city is just a bunch of primitive, murderous, morons. The ones that got locked up in here and in Blackgate are just the ones who gave in the impulse, I'm the one who controls the impulse." The Joker told Gordon.

"You got that right. Ever since that night we've had to put up with a few new freaks. Some serial killers like Cornelius Stirk, Arnold Etchison, and we found Victor Zsasz. A pair of cops called Yin and Bennett put down that Croc thing Scarecrow had in the sewers. There's some nut called Anarky starting up trouble, saying that he's the right where you were the wrong." Joker laughed at that, "Old Batsy would probably like that guy." Joker said.

'Maybe he would.' Gordon thought. "Another nut identified as Julian Day and someone calling themselves Scarface is trying to take over the mob's men. Some wacko you'd just love called Professor Pyg, who spends his time mutilating people and brainwashing them into thinking their animals." "Not bad, once you bring the guy here I'll have a chat with him." The Joker commented. "And to top it off something called Phantasm has been finishing off what's left of the mob." Gordon finished.

"Good riddance, those guys were boring as all hell." Joker said. "A few thousand people in this city would disagree with you." Gordon said.

"That's my point Jim, this city got exciting when Crane poisoned the water, when Batman stopped that terrorist from making Gotham go nuts with fear, when I made my grand entrance. That's when this city got interesting. Rupert Thorne, Lew Moxton, Carmine Falcone, Salvatore Valestra, Gambol, Chechen, Maroni, they're all the same. Barely anything to separate them from each other. They should've taken some advice from the Dick Tracy villains; now with those guys you could tell who was who." Joker said, giggling like a child again.

"Is that all you have to say? Calling the mob generic?" Gordon asked. "No, not really. I want to gloat about how much you and your little merry band of policemen and women are a bunch of hypocrites and morons." The Joker said.

"Considering the footage I saw from that press conference I don't blame you." Gordon admitted.

"I caught that too. "No more dead cops! He should turn himself in!" and those moronic reporters and civilians applaud." Joker began cackling once more. "Those morons don't know the definition of irony? Do they?" he asked.

"I doubt that they do." Gordon said, nodding. It was unthinkable that he was agreeing with Joker, but he had to admit the Gotham's good citizens' behavior was not exactly noble.

"They have short term memory loss like Dory? How did they forget that a mere year ago this city looked like hell busting out of the sidewalks, with Falcone and his buddies serving as the reigning overlords. Then the Bat came in; suddenly crooks and dirty cops were running scared, the mob had second thoughts, Loeb got jealous, and I took interest. The Batman saved this city from that terrorist, they're more than happy to applaud and celebrate him for a year but then I got a little more serious in my gags. When I ask for his head what do they do? Do they say "We got your back old chum!' or "Screw off, the Batman is our hero!" Do they even bother to stick up for him?" Joker asked.

"No. And it disgusts me." Gordon agreed. "Ya see, Batman told me I was wrong, about everyone else being just as ugly as me. Well guess what? He was wrong. If these people had any common sense or real morality in them they wouldn't have bought your little 'The Batman did it! No further questions! No need to investigate! Nothing to see here!' scheme." Joker said.

"You have a point. The Batman came up with it, I agreed to it, and even I'm disturbed as to how damn easily people bought it." Gordon said. "That's the thing. This little rouse shouldn't have fooled even the most amateur of detectives, and yet it did. It fooled everyone in this city, that just proves how damn worthless they are." Joker ranted.

"The Batman would disagree with that, he was willing to do anything, even destroy his legacy and reputation to make this city a place where decent people can live." Gordon said. The Joker smirked. "Decent people shouldn't live here, they'd be much happier somewhere else." Joker said.

Gordon wondered if that was true. As bad as Chicago could be sometimes it had nothing on the utter insanity that Gotham seemed to feast on. Even before he was born this city had something resembling the Joker or Zsasz or Crane.

Cult leaders like The Mad Monk, serial killers like Mad Dog and Doctor Death. All long dead now and mostly forgotten by all but the expert cops, historians, and the elderly who still had some memory. This city was always a living hell.

"So Jim, I've seen on the news how things have been going with you. Finishing off the mob, going after White and his sharks, and trying to keep your stepford smile going, but why don't we talk about me?" The clown asked.

"I already know about you. In the thirteen months you've been here you've murdered several guards, and nearly escaped two times, one of which resulted in the death of the garden supervisor Pamela Isley and sexually harassed Dr. Quinzel on multiple occasions, and made threats regarding the loved ones of Dr. Strange and Dr. Arkham." Gordon said.

"You forgot to mention the jaywalking." The Joker said, deadpanned.

"Bottom line Joker, you're a menace. You're a monster, a psychopath, an abomination, a blight on Gotham, a mockery to sentient beings, a hopeless cause. The only reason we're keeping you here is because it you were in Blackgate you'd have better chances of escaping or being killed, though I'm personally fine with the latter part." Gordon said.

"I'm shocked you'd say that, considering you were so damn scared of my lawyers before." The Joker said. "Not anymore. The Dent Act also revoked your right to a lawyer." Gordon said.

"I know, just a little funny, that's all." Joker said. "Nothing about what you do is funny." Gordon hissed. "Depends on your taste of comedy; ya see to some people violence is horrifying but to people like me it's damn hilarious." "I understand that part, considering the body count you've caused." Gordon said.

"Oh yeah, what's the tally again?" "Ninety two." Gordon answered. "Hm, better get out of her and kill eight more then, don't want this city of dopes to forget about me too soon." The Joker said.

"I also wanted to ask you, why didn't you tell anyone the truth about Dent? It'd be a chance to create more of your random chaos." Gordon pointed out. "I already told a few guards and none of them believe me. Though that Bolton guy seemed to take it a little seriously." Joker said.

Gordon knew who Joker was talking about; Lyle Bolton. He was a cop Gordon knew a few years ago who Loeb discharged because of unnecessary excessive force. Despite his brutality that had been reported more than once Bolton was a cop who desperately wanted to make a difference.

After the mass asylum breakout during the terrorist incident Mayor Garcia found out about Bolton's rough treatment of the criminal known as Dagger and made him head of security of Arkham. Ever since then Joker had been the only one to attempt to escape and both attempts ended in failure.

"He's hit me you know, about a few dozen times." Joker said. "Can you blame him? The entire city would love to be in the position to hit you." Gordon said.

"They'd love to hit Batman too, wouldn't they?" Joker asked. Gordon couldn't help but agree.

"You see Jimmy, that's the thing. They don't care about Maroni or Wuertz or anyone else Dent killed. They just care about Dent. I've been wanting to ask you something." Joker said.

"Go ahead, ask." Gordon said. "Why didn't you blame Dent's despicable deeds on me?" Joker asked.

Gordon didn't know the answer to that, he had considered blaming it on Joker after Batman ran off that night, but he decided against it. He did wonder why he didn't do it now. In retrospect it seemed like such a stupid and contrived way to end the Batman copycats and take care of the Dent problem.

"I admit you've got me beat there. Considering you somehow saw through my fake death and knew about the helicopters and where they'd be I guess you're just damn psychic." Gordon said.

"No, if I was I would've foreseen my little trick on the ferries not working." Joker said.

"Well, nice chatting with you, but I've gotta go." Gordon said as he got up. "So soon? We've scarcely begun to talk." Joker said. "True, but I'm the commissioner of the GCPD so I'm a very busy man." Gordon said.

"Okay, have a nice day honey. Oh and by the way what would you say if I'm not the original Joker?"

That made Gordon stop dead in his tracks.

He looked down at the Joker and asked "What?" quietly.

"Think about it. At first I was just some guy doing random stuff like poisoning the water supply and blowing up random stuff. Even drew smiles on the faces of dead bodies. But then with that bank heist I got serious. Who's to say the real Joker is some poor schmuck who had a bad day, fell into a chemical bath, got his skin bleached with a permanent smile on his face, became the grand criminal you and Batsy failed to catch for nine months, then some random guy like me found him, killed him, cut his mouth open, wore bad makeup, and decided to terrorize Gotham. I mean, you didn't think it was weird that someone called the Joker, who had displayed no care for leaving clues behind suddenly started to leave behind clues for the Batman to find me? When did I have a point? At first it was just random chaos, funny stuff and then I tried to make a point. I drove Dent crazy, made Batman go into hiding, and you lost your family. All in all that's pretty much for a guy who dresses up like a clown wouldn't you say?" Joker said, grinning wide.

"Are you saying you're not the real Joker?" Gordon asked.

"Who knows? I could be Batman's mommy for all you know! I could be just like those mall Santas and just report to the real thing, meaning he knows everything Dent did and is waiting for the right time to reveal it. It's just a big... enigma." Joker said. He began to laugh. He laughed harder and harder.

Gordon couldn't take it anymore and walked out of the room and slammed the door shut. A guard locked it behind him, muffling out the laughter.

Gordon walked out of the asylum, nodding to Bolton as he did so. 

HAHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHHAHAHHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA 

It was after midnight when the door opened; there were several people in the doorframe. "Go on, check him." A man's voice said.

Lyle Bolton, head of security at Arkham Asylum, stepped in the small room and walked to the bed. He checked Joker's eyes and pulse. He was wearing gloves and so were the eleven people in the hall behind him.

"The drugs worked. He's awake, but paralyzed." Bolton said. "Let's get started. Dr. Quinzel, would you like to go first?" the first man asked. "You're goddamn right I do." The blonde woman in her late twenties said.

She stepped into the room and accepted the knife from Bolton. Harleen had tears streaming down her face, causing her eyeliner to mix in with it. She stepped over the Joker's unmoving body and raised the knife up.

"This is for Red. I loved her and you took her from me." Quinzel said as she stabbed Joker in the stomach.

Quinzel had been in a relationship with Pamela Isley, but the Joker killed Pamela, or Red as Quinzel affectionately called her, by impaling her through the stomach with a shovel in the gardens of the asylum. Pamela died before Harleen could reach her.

Quinzel glared at the Joker's white face as its eyes looked lustily at her. The reason the Joker had murdered Pamela was because he had an attraction to Quinzel, even calling her Harley Quinn. When he found out about her lesbian relationship with Pamela he didn't seem to approve.

"Now you'll never have me." Harleen hissed as she turned around. She knew full well what the Joker wanted to do to her if he ever got free. She walked out of the room and into the hallway.

Another woman took her place and accepted the blade from Bolton. This woman was Sarah Dawes, mother of Rachel Dawes.

"You killed my baby and so many others. You love killing so much? Want to know what it's like?" Dawes asked as she stabbed the Joker in the shoulder.

She gave the knife back to Bolton and walked out of the room weeping, somewhat horrified at what she just did.

Two strong, muscular men stepped in next. These were Umberto and Pino Maroni, the sons of the mob boss Sal Maroni. They didn't know about Dent being the one who killed their father, but they knew that the Joker was responsible for it. They weren't involved in their father's crime affairs; they simply oversaw and headed his more legitimate businesses such as his restaurant.

Umberto calmly took the dagger and stabbed it into Joker's abdomen. "For dad, say hello to Sid the Squid in hell for me." Umberto said. He handed the dagger to Pino.

Pino held the knife up and said "Marcire all'inferno." He said as he spat on the Joker's head and plunged the dagger into his chest.

"Why did you do that you moron?!" scolded Bolton, "You can't leave any evidence behind." He said as he used his gloved hand to wipe away the spit.

"Just needed to get it out of my system." Pino said as he followed his older brother out of the room.

The next one in was Dr. Jeremiah Arkham himself. He took the blade form Bolton with a "Thank you." He approached the body and looked down at the dying man he had feared for so long.

"For my wife. You will never threaten her again." He said as he stabbed into the Joker's leg. He seemed to shake a bit as he gave the blade back to Bolton and calmly walked out of the room, looking very pale.

He walked past a middle aged African American woman who walked up to Bolton and gently accepted the dagger.

She was Olivia Loeb, wife of the late Commissioner Loeb. She had been devastated by the loss of her husband and a little traumatized by Joker's attempted assassination of Mayor Garcia at Loeb's parade.

She stabbed into the chest and twisted it tightly. "This is for my husband you son of a bitch." She hissed. She pulled it out, sending droplets blood on the floor. She turned around and handed it to the next person as she headed out the door.

The man she gave it to was Detective Harvey Bullock. He was a rather fat man, but Gordon knew he was a good cop, or at least tried and wanted to be.

He held up the dagger and said "This is for Renee. She might've been a bitch sometimes but I couldn't've asked for a better partner. And then you shot her in the chest and killer her you fucker." Bullock said as he stabbed the blade into Joker's chest.

He took it out and gave it to Bolton again. He allowed the next person to step in before he walked out of the door and back into the hallway.

The next person was the only one besides Gordon, Joker, and the suspecting Bolton who knew the truth about Harvey Dent's rampage.

This person was an Indian woman in her early thirties and had been a cop at Gotham for several years before leaving the city with her sickly mother a month after Joker's reign of terror had ended. This was Anna Ramirez.

Chechen had blackmailed her, using her mother's medical bills, and told her to drive the unsuspecting Rachel Dawes to a place where Chechen's men tied her up at a wear house filled with explosives where she was incinerated by the blast.

"This is for my mother, for Wuertz, for me, for what you did to Dawes and Dent." Ramirez hissed as she plunged the dagger into Joker's stomach, adding to the collecting pool of blood, being careful to not get any on her.

She handed it to Bolton who gave it to the next person. As she walked away she felt that justice had been served and that she had somewhat redeemed herself for betraying Rachel Dawes and Gordon.

The next person was a young woman, no older than twenty, with long red hair. She took the knife from Bolton and stabbed Joker in the hip. "That's for my brother." She said simply as she struggled to keep herself form breaking down crying, not fully believing that she was helping to kill someone, even if it was someone as demented and evil as Joker.

She was Jenny Goldring, sister to Daniel Goldring who had been an accomplice to Joker in the bank heist that caught the mob's attention. He had been going under the name 'Grumpy' and was hit by the school bus that Joker used to escape.

Nine down and three to go.

Bolton took the next stab. He plunged it deep and hard into the Joker's ribcage. "For Marty and Rob. They stuck by me even after I got expelled and you killed 'em. You should've been locked up when you were a baby and never seen the light of day." Bolton said as he ripped out the blade.

Two of Bolton's friends Martin Isenberg and Robert Skir were two cops who the Joker had killed several months before the bank heist. After Bolton was expelled from the force the two remained friends with him.

Joker had murdered the two when they had nearly captured him. They managed to cuff him, but he used the cuffs to strange Skir and used the knife he had attached to his shoe to gut Isenberg.

Bolton grinned as he looked into the Joker's eyes as he saw the life in them getting weaker and weaker, but he was somehow still alive.

"Here, your turn." He said to the eleventh person.

Andrea Beaumont took the dagger from Bolton and stepped in front of the Joker. Years ago when she was a child her father, a philanthropist named Carl Beaumont, had began a war on mob bosses like Salvatore Valestra and Carl Grissom.

It didn't end well, as it resulted in the assassination of Beaumont's wife. When she was a teenager Andrea was in a relationship with Bruce Wayne, since they both had their loved ones taken away by the scum of Gotham. When Wayne left for college they broke up, but remained friends.

She had traveled all around Europe and Asia, learning various fighting skills and techniques. A month before the bank heist Carl Beaumont was killed by the Joker on orders of Carl Grissom, who turned up dead a week later.

Andrea had returned to Gotham for the funeral and to meet Bruce Wayne again. She had returned a few weeks ago and with her arrival to Gotham the mysterious assassin known as Phantasm appeared as well, but no one made the connection.

"This is for my father" She said, but then she whispered oh so quietly "and for robbing me of my vengeance on Grissom." She sliced open his neck.

She handed the dagger to the twelfth and last person, Jim Gordon.

Gordon had assembled these people, people who had been hurt by the Joker one way or another. Be it loved ones, friends, or vendettas, they all had one thing in common; they wanted Joker dead.

Bolton had made sure all the cameras had been deactivated, none of the on duty guards were aware of what was happening, and that any surrounding prisoners were drugged into oblivion so there'd be absolutely no witnesses.

They all wore gloves to keep finger prints off, they all were quiet so no one would hear them, they were all brought in through a little used exit reserved for staff in case of breakouts.

The gloves would be burned, the dagger would be melted, and the murder would be blamed on Phantasm, just as Andrea and Gordon had agreed.

Gordon stood over the nearly dead body of the Joker. A man so hated by so many.

"This is how it ends Joker. No epic battle with the dark knight, no grand shoot out, no dramatic fall, no mystery. A few simple stabs. Like T.S. Elliot once said, "This is how you end; not with a bang, but with a whimper"" Gordon said.

The Joker's cold eyes looked at Gordon, and the clown used the last of his strength to grin one last time and let out a small, but haunting laugh.

Gordon stabbed the knife into Joker's forehead, penetrating the brain, ending him.

The laugh stopped, the Joker's life ended. But on his face, was his grin.

Gordon took the knife out of the head and gave it Bolton.

They walked out of the room and into the hallway to face the ten others.

"It's over." Gordon announced. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA 

The next night Gordon reclined on the couch in his house. Alone. It had been one hell of a day.

He had to be in news interviews, answering questions all day (sometimes the same question multiple times), and decide just what to do with the body of the Joker after the autopsy.

He had decided to burn it. His ashes were put into a dumpster where they belonged. A fitting end for the Joker.

He had decided that Phantasm, the same vigilante that had murdered Salvatore Valestra, Chuckie Sol, Buzz Bronski, Alberto Falcone, and Eddie Skeevers was responsible since there had been some weird fog sighted on the security cameras before Bolton killed them.

He knew that Andrea Beaumont was responsible for those murders and the fog; he knew she was the Phantasm. He decided not to arrest her since she threatened to blow their cover, and he really didn't blame her for those killings since he figured the less mob scumbags the better.

She had left that afternoon, leaving he and his force to take care of the rest of the cops. Ramirez had gone back to her new home in Central City, Bullock and everyone else involved in the murder swore to secrecy, and Bolton got rid of the evidence.

The Joker was finally gone. The only ones who seemed to mourn him were street gang punks like the Jokerz or the Maniaxe. He couldn't care less about them; they'd be captured soon enough now that their inspiration was dead.

He wondered, how sad was it that some people actually revered the Joker? Agreed with him? Sympathized with him? After all he had done. The lives he ended, the people he crippled, the damaged he caused.

Maybe if he told the truth about Dent that would end.

Barbara had called him earlier that day to ask if the Joker was really dead. He assured her he was. He talked with her for about half an hour, he'd talk to James and Yvonne tonight since they were at school when Barbara called.

He heard something at the window.

He turned and saw a black figure standing in the room with him.

"Batman I..." "I know it was you that killed him Gordon." The Batman said in that growling voice.

"Yes. It was me. Was it that obvious?" Gordon asked. "To someone like me it was. And it should be to any half decent detective on the planet. You plucked the murder right out of an Agatha Christie novel." The Batman snarled.

"That's right. I ripped the idea for the murder right out of Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. Twelve stabs. Twelve people acting like a jury. Joker was found guilty and sentenced to death. Admittedly it was a biased jury, but what the hell? Just like in the book we decided that the murdered man had it coming, so we used the second theory of an assassin sneaking in, drugging him, killing him, and then leaving unnoticed. And just like in the book, if anyone found out would they really care?" Gordon asked.

"I care. This goes against everything we stand for. Everything we risked on that decision." Batman said. "That decision was idiotic! We could've blamed Joker for all those deaths, not you! But no. You had to take the blame, you great big bloody hero." Gordon hissed.

"You regret the choice we made." Batman said. "You really are the world's greatest detective." Gordon snarked.

"Don't patronize me Gordon. Now you're no better than him." "Am I? I just rid the world of the worst criminal since that Ghul person you told me about. At least he had good intentions, but Joker? He just wanted to see people suffer, die, and give into to his madness. If he ever got out for real do you know what would happen? He'd tear this city apart looking for you! He'd beat us, he'd drag us in front of a live crowd, and force us to admit what really happened to Dent." Gordon said.

Batman didn't move.

"I see. Maybe it was a mistake to let him live that night." Batman said. "Yeah, that's what Stephens keeps telling me." Gordon said.

"Well, it's good to know you have everything under control." Batman said. "Under control? No we don't. We have serial killers and Joker copycats running around. We have new freaks like Pyg and we could use your help to bring them down." Gordon said.

He heard a sigh coming from the Batman.

It sounded so tired.

"I'm sorry Jim. It's your war now. The city is in your hands and it couldn't be in better ones." The Batman said as he headed for the window.

"Yes it could. It could be in yours." Gordon said.

Batman glanced at him and climbed on the window sill.

"I'm not done yet Batman, I talked to Joker yesterday afternoon. He hinted that he might not be the real Joker." Gordon said. He now fully had Batman's attention.

"So Batman, what happens if another Joker shows up?" Gordon asked. "Then I'll comeback and fight him. I won't let something as big as the Joker threaten this city again." Batman promised.

"So if Pyg become just as bad or if there is another Joker and he shows up, you'll return." Gordon asked. Batman nodded. "You have my word Jim. What was the other thing you wanted to ask me?" he asked.

"Joker wanted to know why we didn't just blame him. No one would bat an eye and it would keep us both happy. You wouldn't have to hide and my family would still be with me." Gordon said.

Batman didn't answer. He jumped out the window, disappearing once again.

Gordon sighed. Some heroes they were.

The Joker was right. Decent people shouldn't live in Gotham city.

**...but with a whimper.**

**Okay, little challenge for all die hard Batman fans, try and see how many references I made to other forms of Batman media like comics, movies, and cartoons I've referenced. **

**No, there will not be a sequel to this one shot, I just wanted to bring up the idea that Joker from The Dark Knight wasn't really the Joker, because he came off more like Riddler or Anarky to me. **

**Also to answer the common question fans ask; what happened to the Joker in between The Dark Knight and The Dark Knight Rises, so here's my guess as to what happened to him. **


End file.
